


I cannot do the title thing. I give up.

by nothing_doing



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: And yet I try, F/M, I REWROTE THIS, I can't do tenses, I doubt it's better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_doing/pseuds/nothing_doing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikita has panic attacks. Or anxiety attacks. Or something in between. I couldn't find a very good explanation of the differences between the two. But I honestly think it's a mix between the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I cannot do the title thing. I give up.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beth_Penrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Penrose/gifts).



> Hopefully this is some better than the original. I honestly forgot this existed. So I think this is rightfully Beth_Penrose's now :)

Panic attacks were normal for Nikita, as a child they happened when she felt threatened, in Division they happened after missions and on the run they happened after fights. Full blown panic attacks were bad news. As a child not being able to breathe or defend herself quickly got Nikita into a lot of situations she couldn’t get out of.

Eventually she was able to teach herself to change the panic attacks into lesser forms. Instead of curling up in a ball she would pace. Instead of crying or yelling she would scratch at her arms, sometimes hard enough to make herself bleed. She couldn’t look people in the eye or talk above a whisper and her senses ended up going so crazy that she always ended up with headaches, but it was better than getting caught unaware.

The causes of the attacks also changed. In the beginning, they would happen at very inconvenient times. She would be running from someone and would end up curled up in an ally in plain view. Later they happened right after she got out of a situation. After getting away from whoever wanted to trap her she would hide somewhere and immediately get hit with a panic attack. Even later and they would be delayed until she let them out. She could get back from a mission and go through debriefing before going back to her room and panicking.

Sometimes she could go through multiple missions without a panic attack, but other times they would happen every night for weeks after just one mission. When Nikita and Michael were on the run together he was always there to help her breathe and get through it. Before that it was just her finding whatever ways she could to make it through.

In division sometimes she would go to the gym, using physical pain to force the panic down. But sometimes her will would weaken and she would go in search of him instead. The first few times she just knew that she had to see him, had to make sure he was okay, so she searched him out and made up some excuse to talk to him for awhile. The third or fourth time, she wasn't quick enough on her feet to come up with a good excuse.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey" Nikita said quietly as she walked carefully into his office.  
"What are you still doing awake?" Michael noticed her slight flinch at his voice but didn’t know what to do.  
"I slept some but I woke up and I came here." Nikita continued staring at the floor and still spoke very quietly.  
"Why did you come here?" Michael was greeted by another flinch. Trying to match her voice for quietness he continued "I'm supposed to make sure you're at your best for training." She looked up slightly, still not looking at him "do you want to talk about it?"  
She almost shook her head, but then paused and said instead, "it happens, some weeks more than others, and sometimes not at all." She lost control slightly and shook from head to toe for a moment.  
"Nikita, who am I?" He tried to stay calm but the look on Nikita's face, which was usually so calm, was scaring him.  
"Michael." Her voice trembled when she spoke.  
"Nikita, you're here, in division. You're with your handler and you're safe." Not knowing what to do, Michael got up and softly closed the door. When Nikita flinched as he went by, he returned to sit at his desk. “It’s okay, I’m here and no one is going to hurt you.” He continued in this vein until her breathing slowly returned to a normal pace.  
When the trembling was gone too she slowly looked up. "Thank you Michael." Nikita's voice was quiet but under control now.  
"Nikita, if it ever happens again please come find me." Michael was out of his element completely but knew that if seeing him helped, she needed that option.  
Her only response to that was a nod. "I'd best go." She was still quiet, but seemed firm on this point.  
"I hope you can get some more sleep. And if you need anything…" Michael said.  
She nodded once more as she slipped back out the door.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then she had been on the run alone. She had a panic attack nearly every night. This time instead of searching anyone out she would just get into her car and drive. It didn’t matter where she was heading, she needed the distraction that driving provided. As the days went by she got more and more tired and had to stop for sleep more and more often.

Now she was back with them, but on a plane which was a horrible place for her to try to sleep, even when she was in a good state of mind. So when she woke up she would just get up. But she could no longer go to the one man who had ever been able to help her with this, because he wouldn't even touch her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael knew about the panic from the first time she came to him without an excuse, she had been shaky then and there were bloody streaks on her arms. He hadn’t been able to help much then and so had done a lot of internet research after. He had looked at the tapes from her room, to see if that would shed any light on the situation, and saw her pacing the room unable to sleep. The blood on her arms was no longer a mystery and the shaking was even more evident. Watching her whimper and cry had almost made him go find her again. He had refrained after quite a bit of internal debate.

She had come to him more often after that and she stopped flinching when he got close. He finally asked if he could touch her and in getting a nod in the affirmative he hugged her close until she stopped shaking.

When they were on the run together he would just move over in their bed and wrap himself around her and whisper to her. She would calm slowly, but he could comfort and help her as best as he knew how.

When she ran without him he didn’t know what to do. She was on her own and that scared him half to death.

Now she was back again. He wasn't supposed to touch her, wasn't supposed to want to. But the knowledge that she was back sometimes still made him giddy.  
When it was night he sometimes heard her whimper, sometimes heard her call his name. He could never answer because he was still too mad. He knows it's not fair to blame it all on her but the fact remains that she could have stayed.

Some nights he couldn't stay away, he knew she was jumpy but she has never awakened from him being nearby. So he went and sat by her bed, when the nightmares came he laid a hand on her head. When she whimpered he put his hands around one of hers.

Other nights he would hear her from across the airplane and the anger would just overtake him. When that happened he went to find Birkhoff. Nerd, as Nikita called him, would stay with her for a night so Michael could go beat up a punching bag.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Birkhoff tried to talk to him about it one night. "Michael, you got to give it up man. You can no more stay away from her than I can stay away from computers."  
"Leave it Birkhoff." His voice was low enough to almost be a growl.  
Birkhoff put his hands up in surrender. "Fine. But have you realized that the times when you have me watch her have gone down dramatically?" Taking Michael's dumbstruck look as a sign to continue, Birkhoff went on. "When she first came you watched her for a week. Then when you were certain she was staying you had me watch her, for at least a week straight. After that you took a night then I took a couple and so on. At this point the last time I watched her was over a week ago and then just because you were on the ground while we were in the air."  
"Birkhoff." His tone held all the warning in the world. "Is there a point to this?" Michael stalked away, not expecting him to answer.  
"Despite the fact that you'll try to take my balls off, the point is obvious: you can't live without her. What you're currently doing so that you can be near her is creepy and stalkerish, even if you're both madly in love and want to screw each other's brains out."  
Birkhoff finished his rant against the wall, where Michael pushed him. "Leave it, I said." There was a small groan from behind them.  
"Michael?" Came Nikita's voice, dreaming but about to wake.  
He quickly walked over to her. "Sleep Nikita, I'm here." She immediately quieted back into peaceful sleep. Michael glared at Birkhoff, daring him to comment.  
"I'm gone, goodnight lovebirds." Birkhoff closed the door behind him before Michael could find something to throw.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It got harder and harder for Michael because he continuously had to stop himself from touching her, awake or asleep. When she was sleeping, all he wanted to do was climb in with her and hold her. When she was awake, all he wanted to do was kiss her.

Birkhoff would occasionally send him pointed looks. Michael would look down and see he was clenching and unclenching his hands over and over again. He would then force his mind to stop thinking about Nikita and return to the job at hand.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nikita had seen the looks between them and wondered but not asked. She had her own problems. Namely that Michael was avoiding her.

She missed him desperately. She couldn't touch him or talk to him anymore. She craved his touch though, so she had to be careful of how close to him she got. She would sometimes find herself reaching for him before she remembered she shouldn't.

She was still avoiding her panic attacks because she knew she wouldn’t be able to control them by herself this time. The avoidance was leaving her with daily headaches and bad dreams nearly every night. Luckily she hadn't had too much trouble with sleep so far, mostly because she was tired and so didn’t wake up when she had bad dreams. But also because when she started having really awful dreams, Birkhoff would wake her up before it got so bad that she woke herself.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One night she went to sleep in a bad state of mind and spent an hour tossing and turning. When she finally fell asleep she still moved around, calling Michael's name.  
Michael sat and stared at her for half an hour before he finally went over to her. "Nikita." His voice was soft and barely audible, but she heard. She flipped over to be facing him and called out his name again. Her arm actually came off the bed to reach for him.  
It finally became too much for him. "Nikita." This time it was louder, clearly audible. She jerked into a semi-aware state.  
"Nikita, I need to..." He pointed to the bed. "Please." Not fully awake but understanding, Nikita did as he asked, sliding forwards slightly to make more room.  
He quickly shucked off his jeans, because he knew she hated them against her skin, before climbing in. He settled down after working an arm beneath her and rolling them both slightly. She had her back to his chest and her head tucked beneath his. His arms wound around her, keeping her as close as possible.  
"Sleep." He said it in her ear, causing her to shiver slightly before settling back into an easier sleep. He couldn't sleep quite so easily but after a few minutes of listening to her peaceful breathing he too fell asleep.

 

Birkhoff found them in the morning and grinned quietly at them before leaving them to their sleep.

When Michael woke up he took in his surroundings, first noticing Nikita still asleep and then Ryan watching them. "Ryan, what is your problem?" Michael stared at the man currently interrupting his sleep.  
"Birkhoff told me and I had to see it. I'm obviously not as quiet as he is." Ryan had a good natured smile on his face.  
"Leave it Ryan, I have no clue what we are to each other right now, but I need to be touching her. Right now that's all I know. Also be forewarned that I have a gun beneath the pillow and if you don't leave I'll knock you out with it. Couldn't wake Nikita now could we." Michael said it all so calmly and so quietly that Nikita didn't even twitch in her sleep.  
"Fine." Ryan smiled again before leaving.

 

When Nikita woke up fully, her reaction was much less calm. She had a few seconds to process where she was before she started shaking, slightly at first but growing in intensity. She curled up as much as she could while still staying in Michael’s arms. The only thoughts going through her head were about Michael. The images were from all of her worst nightmares, and they were coming back to her with a vengeance. Images of Michael, hurt, dying, hating her. Michael holding her again had brought out all the terrible things she wanted to forget.

She tried to calm down, not wake Michael up. But the attempt was useless. She was shaking uncontrollably and gasping for breath.

Michael woke again with Nikita shaking. Knowing something was wrong even in his sleep. He immediately identified what was causing it. "Do you want me to leave?" His voice was quiet, misjudging the reason for her panic.  
Nikita clutched his arms, shaking even harder. "No, please no." Her voice was desperate.

She was unable to stop the pour of images and thoughts. Memories were resurfacing, dreams were resurfacing, now in safety, now in Michael's arms. "Nikita." Just her name being murmured gave her something to hold onto and she flexed in his arms, trying to both get closer and curl further away.

"It's fine, I'm staying. Hush. You're fine. I'm here..." He continued speaking, murmuring endlessly, feeling her settle slowly into him with every word he said.  
It may have been hours later or it may have been minutes before she could breath normally again. Her shaking finally subsided and she lay limp in his arms.  
"You didn't have a panic attack all the time you've been here, why now?" His voice was concerned now but unhappy as well, blaming himself for the panic attack.  
"Because you're here now." She felt him try to leave but held on to him tightly as she continued. "I managed to keep it partitioned off. All the stuff that just came up was stuff about you, nightmares I've had. I needed to let that all out at some point. You being here must have been my trigger. That was also the worst panic attack I've ever had."

He thought back to the panic attacks he had witnessed. Some were worse than others but generally his quiet reassurances or touches were enough for her to regain her equilibrium. He had always thought that though she liked having him there, she could have managed without him as well.  
He thought about the one she had just had. She had refused to let him leave. This time he had known instinctively that just being there wouldn't be enough. The talking, murmuring, full body contact, had been necessary. He had pulled her through this one instead of just letting her take strength from him and being a witness.  
"It would have been much worse if it had happened while you weren't here. I had a couple pretty bad panic attacks the first weeks I was gone." Her voice trailed off showing her discomfort.  
"Please tell me." Still wrapped around her, he whispered by her ear.  
"They were about you, and you weren't there." She grew silent until he squeezed her slightly. "I just kept panicking, I couldn't stop. I ended up dehydrated and barely able to move. That's about when I knew I wouldn't be able to do it without you, I started compartmentalizing everything and was able to keep going." She could feel tears running down her face at the reminder of some of the things she had forced down.  
"Nikita, shhhh. You're okay now. I got you." Michael went back to trying to comfort her. He brought one arm up to slowly stroke through her hair. When she slowly fell back to sleep in his arms he wasn't far behind.


End file.
